


Of Books And Fairy Tales

by mistressteacup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressteacup/pseuds/mistressteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my god. You’re such an idiot. If you <em>like a guy</em>, you tell them. This passive-aggressive stalking stuff is just not okay.”</p><p>Or the time Derek took love advice from Twilight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Books And Fairy Tales

Derek doesn’t know why he picks up the book. Why he reaches down and grabs the cover.

 

It might be the apple, it might be the hands.

 

Or it might be the fact that it was on the doorstep to his house with a post-it note and a smiley face.

 

It’s seems simple, just a book, someone wanting to spread the love. The love of the characters, of the written word. It seems harmless enough.

 

So he picks it up and he reads.

 

~

 

It’s interesting, vampires and werewolves, the way the vampires sparkle.

 

The way they are beautiful, but they’re hidden in shadows, people can never know, they can never see them for who they are. For all their beauty and their brains, they’re stuck, trapped forever in the past. Trapped forever in a life they’ll never fully be able to live.

 

And maybe that’s him a little bit. Maybe he’s stuck in the flames and the fear. Forever reliving the screams, the quiet sizzling.

 

Maybe he’s just as stuck as they are.

 

~

 

Derek likes being able to look in on Stiles, to know that he’s okay, that he’s safe.

 

It’s relieving in a way he thinks it shouldn’t be, but there are only so many times someone can just show up out of the blue and remain unsuspicious.

 

He just wants to know Stiles’s okay. That he’s still breathing and _alive_. There have been far too many moments where Derek wasn’t sure he would be, where he was afraid he’d find a dead body on his doorstep.

 

And that probably doesn’t make the stalking okay, but Derek can’t sleep anymore without seeing him. Without knowing that he can still smile. That he’s still warm.

 

It scares him if he doesn’t, slipping into his dreams and nightmares until all he can see are ripped up bodies and taunting eyes.

 

Until all he can see is the flame.

 

And maybe it’s selfish, but he needs to know that everything is okay.

 

~

 

“Derek?”

 

Derek glances down at Stiles, raising a dark eyebrow.

 

“Um, hate to bother you or anything, but,” Stiles blinks, looking up, “Why are you in a tree?”

 

Derek shrugs, thick shoulders lifting and falling evenly as he watches Stiles.

 

“RIght, just hangin’ with the wildlife. I get it. Werewolf, nature. Communing probably comes naturally to you. I’ll just go, over there, to my house, which is right by this tree,” Stiles points over his shoulder, “Just a couple feet away actually. And why the hell are you sitting in a tree where you can look through my bedroom window?” At the opening of Derek’s mouth, Stiles shakes his head, cutting Derek off before he can speak, “Nevermind, actually, I don’t want to know. I really, really don’t want to know. Just,” Stiles pauses, uncertainty crossing his face before he continues, “don’t let my dad see you, okay? He doesn’t really need the shock right now.”

 

Derek nods, serious, still silent as he watches from his perch in the tree.

 

He never planned on being seen anyway.

 

Stiles looks relieved for a moment, his face relaxing, body slumping before he sighs, staring at Derek oddly, head tilted. Shrugging, he turns to walk away, shaking his head, “You’re such a creeper.”

 

The crickets chirp in the darkness, the fallen sun lighting the sky enough to see.

 

And Derek smiles.

 

~

 

The doorbell rings, a quiet resounding of noise moving across the distance to his ears, alerting him of company. With quick steps, he moves to the door, navigating the debris on the ground with a practiced gait.

 

There’s a quiet click as he opens it, glancing out into the sunlight, to see, “Lydia?”

 

Her arms are crossed, hips tilted to the side as she stares at him, “What are you doing to Stiles?”

 

“What do you mean?” Derek says, beckoning her inwards as he closes the door behind her.

 

“Stiles,” Lydia says again, corners of her lips downturned, “What. Are. You. Doing?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Derek,” She says, simply, eyes dark as she moves to the center of the room before turning to face him, the shadows playing in her hair.

 

Derek stares at her for a moment, the silence leeching through the wooden floors before he shrugs. “I’m just making sure he’s okay,” he says simply, hips tilted against the wall as he leans back.

 

“Right,” Lydia says, sarcasm dripping through her words, “Because that’s what friends do. Stalk each other to make sure they’re _okay_.”

 

Derek frowns, corners of his mouth twisting downwards, “I’m not stalking him.”

 

“Watching someone from outside their house, at night, without them knowing. That’s not stalking at all, I’ll be sure to take a note of it in my backwards journal where things stop making sense.”

 

“I-” Derek’s frown deepens, as he falls silent.

 

What’s his excuse anyway?

 

The quiet drags around them, Lydia’s stare drilling into Derek, determined to find an answer.

 

And then she realizes.

 

“Oh my god. You’re such an idiot. If you _like a guy_ , you tell them. This passive-aggressive stalking stuff is just not okay.”

 

“I don’t like him.”

 

“Then why aren’t you stalking me? I’m a friend, I guess, and I’m actually a werewolf, in your pack. Don’t you think you should be watching out for me too?”

 

“You’re-” Derek flounders, searching for words, “He’s-”

 

Lydia laughs, shaking her head in disbelief, “Denial at its finest. Seriously, Derek, _you like him_. Deal.”

 

~

 

“Did you read it?”

 

Derek nods, leaning back against the couch as he holds the phone to his ear, “Yeah.”

 

“What’d you think?” Allison asks happily, grinning into the phone.

 

“It was,” Derek frowns thoughtfully, “interesting.”

 

“Interesting?” Allison raises an eyebrow, curbing her smile, “It’s not a very thought provoking book.”

 

Derek just shrugs, “It can be.”

 

“And what did you find so thought provoking about it?” Allison smiles, amused.

 

Derek closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh.

 

He doesn’t really want to talk about that.

 

“Is how Edward woos Bella normal?” He asks instead, curious, “Does it work?”

 

“It’s probably,” Allison pauses, searching for words, “not the best way to woo someone. Bella’s pretty special in that regard.”

 

“Oh,” Derek says, tilting his head to the side.

 

So he was doing it wrong?

 

“Were you,” Allison smiles, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice, “trying to woo someone that way?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Has it been working?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then maybe you should try something else.”

 

~

 

People have always approached him.

 

He’s never had to do the work, never had to worry. It was always done. If someone liked him, they would tell him. They would come up to him and get to know him.

 

There would be no chasing, no trying to _woo_ someone. It just worked out.

 

They would date, or they wouldn’t.

 

But he’s never had to try. Never had to come up with plans or wonder what he should say.

 

It’s different this time, though.

 

It’s _Stiles_.

 

~

 

So Derek stops. He stops watching him, stops looking through his window, stops making sure he’s okay.

 

He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like not knowing. Not knowing if he’s still breathing.

 

He got used to it, to knowing everything was okay, got used to seeing him before he went to sleep.

 

Got used to the lack of nightmares.

 

He got used to it, the security, the knowledge, and now it’s gone. Smoke in the wind and all he’s left with are the vague insurances of yesterday.

 

Yesterday, he was okay.

 

Yesterday, he was smiling.

 

That should be enough, right?

 

It’s not.

 

~

 

_Are you okay?_

 

Stiles blinks at the text.

 

_I’m fine?_

 

There’s a pause, the movement of information through empty space before there’s a final text.

 

_Good._

 

What the hell?

 

~

 

Stiles frowns, watches the ground, the colored leaves scattered across the sidewalk.

 

Something’s going on, tingling against his senses like a song he can just barely remember. Something just on the edge of realization, an epiphany that’s not yet ready to be known.

 

Something’s there. And he knows it.

 

And he may not be the most focused person or the most driven, but he does know one thing.

 

And that’s how to search for knowledge.

 

~

 

Stiles doesn’t knock when he enters, too distracted by his need, by the thoughts spinning through his head.

 

He needs to _know_.

 

“Derek,” Stiles says as he sees him, sitting on the couch, eyes wide, book in hand, “I need to talk to you.”

 

Derek blinks, putting the book down beside him as he looks at Stiles, “Yeah?”

 

“You,” Stiles says accusingly, “are being strange. And that is not okay.”

 

Derek stares.

 

“With the stalking, and then the not stalking, and then the texting. And,” He flails a bit for words, stopping abruptly, before his other point catches up to him, “Seriously, are you trying to kill me or something? Or freak me out to death? Because if that was your plan then bravo. Success. Just a bit more and I’m done.”

 

There’s a silence, Derek just staring, at a loss for words.

 

Stiles frowns, looking at Derek almost forlornly, “Seriously, man, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

 

Derek just glances to the side, eyes dark, clenching his teeth together.

 

“Dude,” Stiles says quietly, coming to sit down next to him, “I’m not scary. I’m like the least scary a person can be. I’m like a chihuahua, no one’s scared of a chihuahua. Well, except my dad, but that’s only because he was bitten by one. They can be vicious you know. Not that this is helping my case. But, seriously, what’s up?”

 

Derek looks at Stiles for a moment, just looks, silent, before he lets out a breath, saying determinedly, “Stiles.” He pauses, “I like you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I _like_ you.”

 

Stiles shakes his head, “That’s what all this is about? The creepy, the stalking? Because you _like_ me?”

 

Derek growls, shaking his head as he stands up quickly, ready to leave.

 

“Not that that’s a bad thing,” Stiles says quickly, reaching out to grab onto him, “Seriously, it’s awesome. I support that entirely, of course. But you could have just told me you know. I’m a big boy. Though that sounds kinda creepy considering the circumstances.”

 

Derek tugs away from Stiles, turning to walk to the door, movements quick.

 

“Hey, hey,” Stiles says, chasing after him, “Stop that. You can’t just leave after something like that! All hey I like you, and then poof! Leaving. No, you stay.”

 

Derek ignores him.

 

Stiles stops for a second, tilting his head thoughtfully before he grins, running up after Derek and jumping on his back, “Can’t get rid of me so easily. I’m pro at this game.”

 

“It’s not a game,” Derek says finally, moving easily despite the added weight.

 

“No, of course not.” Stiles says quickly, “I think you’ve got the wrong idea here, Derek. And if you would stop for a second, I could blow your mind. Or try to. I’ve never successfully blown someone’s mind before, but I think I’d be awesome at it, don’t you think so? I mean, seriously, look at me. I was _made_ for blowing minds. Oh, wait, we’re stopping now? What are we doing?”

 

“You wanted to show me something?” Derek says gruffly, standing still so Stiles can get off.

 

“This isn’t a trick or anything right? You’re not gonna have me get down and then just run away right?”

 

Derek just glares, frowning.

 

“Fine, fine, I’ll believe you. Though if you do run away, I’m totally gonna tell on you. Allison would be so disappointed.” Stiles shakes his head sadly—think of the _children_ —before sliding off Derek’s back. Turning, he moves to face him, “You can’t run, okay? It’d be terrible for my ego. And that’s a pretty important thing. I need my ego. It’s precious. And it’s pretty beaten down already so be good.”

 

Derek just raises an eyebrow.

 

“Seriously, promise.”

 

“I promise.”

 

Stiles grins, bright, before turning to the task at hand.

 

He stares at Derek, focused, before reaching out to rest one hand on Derek’s side, curling into dark fabric, into _warmth_ , the other touching Derek’s face softly, brushing against stubble.

 

“Don’t run,” Stiles says quietly, looking at Derek nervously, before he leans forward and kisses him.


End file.
